


Disadvantages

by inatshej



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alive Allison Argent & Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Amnesia, Amnesiac Derek Hale, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banshee Lydia Martin, Based on a Tumblr Post, Beacon Hills, Bickering, Biting, Blow Jobs, Books, Boys Kissing, Daredevil - Freeform, Deputy Derek Hale, Derek's Loft, Drinking, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Enemies to Allies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, French Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Frottage, Humor, Kissing, Latin, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Memories, Memory Loss, Monsters, Neck Kissing, Nemeton, Poetry, Scents & Smells, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Sexual Fantasy, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Sheriff Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Smut, Some Humor, Spells & Enchantments, Tags Are Fun, Tea, Temporary Amnesia, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Wordcount: Over 10.000, allies to friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 07:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12293907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inatshej/pseuds/inatshej
Summary: At least it's not a fucking wolfsbane. Still, he can't remember anything, all those people around him are strangers. After one week he has to admit grudgingly that yeah, they are pack. Or tentative allies at least, like him and Stiles. Another week and he has some jumbled memories that don't make much sense, but Stiles lets him forget about this shit. That's why they are friends, cause Stiles jokes, and he can stop thinking about all his disadvantages – until having Stiles close turns to be a disadvantage as well.





	1. Enemies to Allies

**Author's Note:**

> I've found this on Tumblr: omgchulbulipandey asked: I feel like Derek is the sweetest to drunk Stiles. Like once Stiles loses his inhibitions Derek loses his asshole act. So he says yes to EVERYTHING Stiles says, with zero percent snark or eye rolls. Like Stiles could go, I want a pony with your face on it and Derek would just be like, 'okay dear' but the sad part is that Sober Stiles doesn't remember any of this so he can't blackmail his boyfriend for being so mushy to his drunk self.   
> I had in mind an amnesia fic and connected the two. It's also vaguely inspired by When Your Teachers Have No Chill by giantteenwolforgy and He Who Sleeps In The Buff Is In For A Nude Awakening by ScarlettWoman170. 
> 
> So, I know that the Tumblr prompt sounds fluffy, but a good part of this fic is angsty. Basically, it's fluff and angst and yeah, I thought this tag didn't make any sense but then I wrote this :D  
> Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language.  
> One more thing – in this Beacon Hills the legal drinking age is 18 years old.

1\. Tuesday

He sees the trees around him and stares-

preserve. Yes, he is in the preserve in Beacon Hills. No, why the fuck would he be in-

Laura.

_Laura-_

He buried her and-, and, that's the last thing he remembers.

That's the last thing he remembers-

something's wrong.

It's evening. The smell in the air is disturbing. There is a weird trace, but what exactly?, he knows he has felt it before-

Magic. Which doesn't make any sense, magic shouldn't feel familiar.

He wills himself to start walking before realizing he has no idea where he could go. Probably to his old burnt house, he can spend the night there at least.

He drops his eyes to the ground and frowns. That's stupid, but he really doesn't remember having those shoes. Or buying this shirt, which seems new.

And he definitely didn't have a beard in the morning.

He sucks in a breath, feeling a sudden rush of panic. Tries to keep it at bay, for now, at least. Starts walking through the forest, forcing his mind to stay quiet. It's not much further when he freezes, suddenly the puzzles fitting. Magic, new stuff, a _freaking beard_ – it sounds like he has lost his memory.

He breathes.

He walks through the preserve.

He is going down the road, the cars passing him by so fast he doubts anyone can see him until one of them, an old Jeep slows down and parks on the berm. A young guy he doesn't recognize turns to him and calls, ''Derek? What are you doing here?''

 _Jesus_ , thinks Derek, _I have really lost my memory._

He takes a breath, eyes the guy suspiciously and doesn't respond.

''Come on, I'll drive you to your apartment.''

 _My apartment. I have an apartment._ He feels the urge to suddenly laugh at how ridiculous it seems. He grips his hands hard and stares at the guy. He is human – younger than him, seems to know him.

He can't imagine how that's happened.

Still, he decides to get into the car and is hit with the guy's beautiful smell. He turns to the window, trying to regain control as they start to move. It happens – some people have nicer smells than others, though it's an individual thing. Sure. But why _now_?

''What were you doing?'' asks the guy again. Derek still doesn't reply, so he starts talking. ''The whole pack has started looking for you. Can you call Scott and tell him you're fine?''

Derek turns to stare at him. A pack? He has _friends_?

The guy rolls his eyes. ''Stop with the act, I know you like Scott.'' When Derek keeps looking at him, he continues with a smirk this time. ''You love the whole pack, actually. Well, you love Boyd, Erica, and Isaac, but Lydia's great, Allison too, with her shooting, Scott is your best warrior, and me, you know,'' he shrugs. ''Obviously, everyone loves me and you wouldn't last one day without me.''

The guy grins and shoots a quick glance at Derek, who sits very still. _Pack? Best warrior? It sounds as if-_

''Hey, seriously, what happened?'' he frowns, observing Derek, who starts feeling overwhelmed with everything and desperately tries to keep calm, embedding his nails into the seat.

''If it helps, you know you can shift to beta form, I don't min-''

_Beta form._

''Who the fuck are you?'' growls Derek, his eyes flashing red, the power he didn't know he had soaring through him, gripping the guy's shirt and pushing him into the window.

''What the hell?!'' the guy struggles to drive the car, directing it to park, barely avoiding hitting the tree. ''We could've both die!''

''I wouldn't,'' replies Derek, his hand still in the guy's shirt, his eyes still red. The guy's smell spikes up with fear and he feels almost relieved – physically, he has the upper hand. He can do this. ''Who are you?''

''Stiles,'' the guy spits. ''Stiles Stilinski, your emissary, remember? So stop trying to impress me with your strength.''

Derek stares at him. ''Emissary?'' he repeats dumbly.

''Yes, Jesus, just get off of me,'' he says annoyed, fighting off Derek's grip, suddenly much weaker.

''I have a pack?''

''Is this your idea of a joke? Yes, you have a pack.''

Derek turns away, suddenly feeling too tired for everything. ''How long?''

''Three years now, or ever since your _I'm the alpha now_ act with the red eyes. Okay, Derek, what the fuck? Can you explain what's going on with you?''

''No,'' he snaps, ignoring the guy in favor of trying to wrap his head around this-

this everything here. He takes in a slow breath, just to feel the smell again, and it has this soothing, calming tone, he can imagine going to sleep encompassed by it every day-

the thought clearly shouldn't even pass his mind.

The guy – Stiles – laughs at his answer. ''You think you can just brush me off like that? We are friends,'' he says, incredulous.

And that's enough. Derek takes a deep breath and turns to the guy. ''We're not,'' he answers coldly, letting his nails grow and shoving them close to the human's neck. ''I don't know you. Now, you're going to drive me to my apartment and tell me everything that has happened during those three years.''

Stiles observes him, his eyes growing wider and scent changing, dominated by the fear. He presses his lips and turns to drive.

''Do you know about Laura?''

''Your sister?'' Stiles frowns and turns to him. ''Did she come back alive too?'' he asks with a grimace.

''No,'' Derek answers, deciding to ask about the _too_ part later. ''Who killed her?''

Stiles turns to look at him with a weird expression. ''Okay, something serious has happened here-''

''Just answer the damn question,'' interrupts Derek.

Fuck, outside really is changed Beacon Hils. He can see that much.

''It was your uncle, Peter Hale, status: MIA.''

''That's impossible, he's-''

''...he is in a facility and can't talk or move? Heard that one. He killed Laura because he wanted to be an alpha, and when you realized this, you killed him, well, after we'd burned him, but he came back, because Lydia's a banshee, and he drops by occasionally. Haven't heard from him in a while.''

Derek's mind is reeling at this point.

Hearing the rest of the story doesn't help.

According to Stiles, he is living in a pretty decent building. The door to his apartment feels weird, but according to Stiles, again, there are some kinds of safety spells. He enters the place, taking in how normal it seems. And nice, actually. The scent is dominantly his, but Stiles' is rather strong as well. There are some others'-

''I'm sorry,'' says Stiles and-

he is imprisoned in a circle of mountain ash. Derek snaps his head up, changing, and tries to step out automatically just to be held back.

''I'm really sorry, okay? I will let you out as soon as Scott comes. It's just that you behaved like that earlier, so, nothing personal?'' Stiles smiles encouragingly.

Derek glares and snarls at him.

Just like that, he's lost control of the situation. He should never have left Stiles out of his eyes. He feels horrible, useless, and, as ridiculous as it is – deceived. Again.

Stiles leaves to do something at the table with an impressive collection of jars and really old books (so yeah, maybe his apartment isn't that normal), talking about how they have hunted vampires, witches, and a mermaid recently.

Scott is young, roughly the same age as Stiles. He is Derek's beta, a fact he didn't expect even after hearing the story from Stiles. At least it explains the surge in his power.

''Sorry I'm late, Deaton quizzed me on Latin, and he's great at it.''

''You know Latin?'' asks Stiles, disbelieving.

''Uh, I don't, and that was kind of the point,'' Scott smiles goofily. His face falls when he sees Derek. ''Why is-''

''Lost his memory. I made one spell, sorry,'' Stiles darts a quick look to Derek, ''just to check if it's not Derek's evil twin or something.''

Again, it makes no sense that the guy would really be sorry, but he seems _worried_ and his heartbeat is steady. It's like he is in an alternate world.

Only when he is freed, does Derek realize he has no idea what exactly he could do. He feels as if he came over to somebody else's place, where he doesn't know whether it's okay to sit down in the armchair or if this spot on the couch is fine.

He settles on leaning against the wall next to the window. The view's nice at least.

''So, let me make it up to you,'' says Stiles. ''I will prepare your favorite tea, Yunnan Gold.''

Derek frowns. ''That's not my favorite tea.''

Stiles stares at him. ''Okay,'' he manages. ''Assam?''

Derek nods, watching him moving around with an ease, realizing Stiles must know him really well. The other him, at least.

''Did Stiles tell you about the case we are working on now?'' asks Scott.

He shakes his head.

''Well, basically, about three weeks ago we've found a dead bird in the preserve. Some of its insides were missing. Then there was a mice – similar thing, missing its heart, I think, and then a rabbit, a squirrel, and two days ago, another bird.''

Derek nods.

''We have no idea who or what could do that, but it must be something magic, cause it hides their, uh, like, everything?'' the guy frowns, seemingly out of his depth with the spells.

Stiles comes back to the room and looks at Derek. ''So, do you want to meet the rest of the pack today?''

He barely stops himself from grimacing. ''Tomorrow.''

''Sure,'' nods Stiles, then freezes. ''Uh, tomorrow's Wednesday.''

Derek glances at him questioningly but Stiles turns to Scott. ''We have classes,'' he starts, then looks at Derek again, ''and you have work.''

Derek doesn't answer. What else will he learn from the others about _himself_?

Stiles and Scott are looking at him, though, waiting for his reaction.

''What do I do?'' he asks finally.

''You're a deputy,'' says Scott.

''You look hot in the uniform,'' adds Stiles. Derek raises an eyebrow at him, then decides to ignore that.

''Why did I start working?''

''You were suspicious,'' shrugs Stiles. ''Hanging out with high schoolers, avoiding contact with anyone else, a former murder suspect.''

''I was a murder suspect?''

Stiles keeps silent and looks sideways.

''Anyway, we all thought it would be better if you had a proper job, and since Stiles' dad is a Sheriff and knows about all this supernatural stuff, it worked out like that,'' finishes Scott.

''I guess I'll call my dad, tell him what happened,'' says Stiles, trying to quietly retreat from the room.

''Why was I a murder suspect?''

Stiles stops and sighs. ''It was my fault,'' he admits. ''I thought you killed Laura.''

Derek stares at him, almost asks why would he think that, before realizing it will only result in hearing more about his previous life. He has enough already. ''I will go to this work on Thursday,'' he says instead.

 

2\. Wednesday

Meeting the rest of the pack is weird. He doesn't remember any of them, has trouble connecting the names with the faces, doesn't understand why Stiles somehow always ends up next to him.

He is angry at himself, which leads to uttering just handful of words.

It's only worse that they understand. ''He's like the old Derek,'' coos the blonde girl. The guy next to her smiles a bit and it's the most animated he saw him the whole time. The redhead girl doesn't talk much, keeps silent even as everyone discusses the case, and stays close to Scott's girlfriend-

Argent. He can't believe a hunter would choose them over her family, but that's what she supposedly did. He still observes her, searching for any sign showing she's here for another reason, even if it's not that likely after almost three years.

There is none. She is completely lost in a conversation with Scott and Isaac, if that was his name.

In the evening, they leave his apartment, Stiles lingering, as if waiting for something, but he finally goes out as well.

 

3\. Thursday

Surprisingly enough, he likes his job. He is stuck with paperwork for now but doesn't mind it. Organizing the files calms him down, even if every time he puts them off he has this weird urge to double-check the document.

The pack comes in the afternoon again. He retreats to the bathroom, trying to get a grip, and washes his face, using a lot of cold water. The sensation makes him feel something-

he can't quite tell what. There is some kind of nagging at the back of his mind and he frowns, trying to get a hold of it.

He douses his face again, focusing on the feeling and suddenly can smell chlorine-

_he's in a swimming pool and drowns, some kind of a lizard- monster-_

_kanima._

_There is a splash and he is resurfacing, gasping for the air. He can't turn, he is paralyzed-_

_it's Stiles._

He stares at the running water, can't seem to catch a breath, his hands gripping the sink so hard they turn white.

He hears someone laughing on the other side and forces himself to calm down-

dry his face (his hands are shaking-)

go out and come up to Boyd.

He doesn't question why it should be Boyd.

''You need to tell me,'' he starts, holding the guy's arm probably too forcefully, his eyes probably too wide open, his words probably unheard through the others' discussion on the case, ''have I drowned in the swimming pool?''

Boyd (was that really his name?) takes one look at him, then leads him outside.

Derek can't meet Stiles' gaze.

 

4\. Friday

He is again organizing the files. By now he's given in to the urge and opens the documents before stashing them in order.

''How are you doing?'' asks the sheriff, passing him by.

''Fine,'' shrugs Derek.

''What's wrong?'' he glances at the open file.

''Nothing,'' Derek shakes his head. ''I just have this weird feeling that I should open them before putting them away.''

Sheriff eyes him with an unreadable expression. ''You used to do that to check one more time whether there was really nothing supernatural about the...''

''...about the case. And if there was something questionable, I'd take a copy of it and stash it in another folder, the black one,'' finishes Derek, his mind clearer. ''Yeah. I remember now,'' he nods, looking at the file.

Sheriff glances at him one more time before turning away.

When he gets to the apartment, he is tired. He still analyses the board filled with the photos, clues, any information they could get on the animals getting gutted in the preserve.

 _Magic_ , someone scribbled, _no scent, the animals dead for natural reasons_ connected with an arrow to _how does it know where to find dead animals? WTF?_. Earlier _Magic_ leads to a big question mark and an underlined question, _who can do magic? Check,_ and another question, _no animal eaten because the magic's been used?_. There are dates and some photos accompanying them. On the other end he can see another scribble, _no more weirdoes showing up – connected?_.

He shuts his eyes.

He doesn't know his pack, can't be sure if he can trust them, doesn't remember how they have dealt with all the stuff earlier. His emissary is a _teenager_ , the only person who could know something worthy is missing and has killed for power. Now, he has no idea what's going on in his own fucking territory.

He hears someone coming in and snaps his head up.

''Hey, Derek, we meet up tonight, right?'' asks Scott.

''No.''

''Well, we do, we meet up every Friday night to get away from all of this.''

It's a dumb idea, but he sees how much they need to act stupid, drink some alcohol, wishing it had more effect than just a nice buzz on a werewolf's body, take horrible photos, be loud, just try to act like everything's normal.

Not everyone is in the mood, though. He can see how they glance at Lydia who is just shut off, Stiles sitting next to her, failing repeatedly to take her mind off whatever it is that's bothering her. Derek only knows that something is really wrong because he sits on her other side and catches her smell-

it's plain misery.

He gazes at her, astonished. He'd never thought she was suffering this much.

He can't smell that sadness again, though. She collects herself so quickly it's hard to believe given how important whatever happened must be for her.

She leaves soon with Erica and Boyd. There is him, Stiles, who is getting steadily drunk, and three teenagers occupied only with themselves.

When they want to leave as well, Scott turns to him to more state than ask, ''You two are gonna be fine, right?'' He smiles at Derek's stare and goes out with Allison and Isaac.

Derek is weirdly certain that they are going to have sex. They are going to have a threesome.

He swallows more alcohol. It's- teenage drama- teenage stuff- not his.

Getting prepared to leave as well, he doesn't expect Stiles to start talking.

''Do you know Paul Verlaine? He is a really great poet. I mean, sure, „Autumn song” is awesome, but there is some other stuff people don't know that much about.''

Derek looks at him dumbly. He has lost his memory, a girl in his pack may well have suicidal thoughts and he is talking about _fucking poems_.

He is so startled he stays.

Besides, Verlaine _is_ great.

An hour later they actually talk, Stiles' words jumbled as he keeps on drinking. He is not relaxed – even if Derek couldn't hear his heartbeat, he would be able to tell from the way he turns the glass in his hands, his knee bumping, the way he combs his hair.

''There is this „Dusk” thing. You know, peaceful evening, _the owls are awake_ , something something, _The zenith fills, sombrely glowing. / Pale Venus emerges, and it is Night._ '' Stiles moves the beer in his glass. ''That should be you. Pale Derek emerges, and it is Night.''

Derek gives him a flat look.

''Pale Derek stares, and it is Night.''

Derek rolls his eyes.

''Not impressed, huh? Hale Derek socializes, and _it is Night_ ,'' Stiles wiggles his eyebrows.

Derek hides his smile, drinking as Stiles looks at him. The atmosphere between them changes – feeling Stiles' scent is almost intoxicating with the way it takes on deeper tones. It nearly hurts, not being able to lean into it, trying to decipher what could it mean.

Stiles turns away to eye his beer and say softly, ''I've missed you.''

Just with this Derek is reminded of his situation. He can't sit here, when there is so much going on, he can't have this, with a teenager, not him, not _Derek Hale-_

He stands up and leaves the pub. Stiles-

is not his business.

Stiles is 18 or 19 already-

Derek _doesn't remember, again_ -

Stiles can take care of himself.

 

5\. Saturday

He wakes up, gets up, goes for a run. He is not that fast, but after a while – a longer while – it works. He doesn't think anymore, focused on taking breaths and just going on. When he gets to a clearing, he must pause, though. His heartbeat's way too fast. He is sweating, tries to catch a breath, feels-

bad. He _should_ have a clearer mind now-

his hands are shaking.

He stares at them, then looks around. The place seems familiar. He frowns, feeling this itching at the back of his mind again-

_Scott looks horrible. If they don't get some help soon, he'll be dead. It's hard to believe he isn't yet – two wolfsbane bullets in him and he still took three hunters down._

_Erica and Boyd are gone, kidnapped, Stiles and Lydia tied down, Isaac trying to fight off the effects of the mistletoe's powder, and they have no chance._

_Whatever Allison was trying to accomplish by joining the pack, she can do now. He's heard so many times observing her that she has trouble with her father. She can change that now. He looks at her, his movements slowed down because of the wolfsbane-_

_she shoots an arrow, then another one, and another one-_

_the hunters are down._

Derek blinks, the memories feeling fresh, an image of Allison's saying surprised _we're pack_ appearing out of nowhere.

It feels like too much for him.

They come over again, Lydia as well. She seems better today, though stays only for about an hour. Derek decides to go to the preserve, to the place where he's found himself after losing his memories. Stiles stops him before leaving and insists on going along together with Isaac.

They don't find anything extraordinary about the place. Isaac spots another dead animal, a hedgehog. Stiles takes a picture, then analyses the body commenting each and every detail. Derek can't help a scowl which Stiles observes with a glee.

As soon as they're back, Stiles decides to do more research, whining that he doesn't have enough books on magic.

''I only have Keats! He's good for spells and nothing else. Diplomacy stuff? That's Lamartine. Bestiary? Nope, I'd need Southey or Mickiewicz, yeah, fat chance finding his books.''

''Come on, Stiles, you kept on saying that while we were trying to figure out something about the vampires and remember how great your spell worked then?'' asks Erica.

''That was a coincidence. But yeah,'' he grins, ''I was awesome, huh?''

Erica shoves him, but smiles. ''You'll figure something out.''

''Not to crush your confidence, Erica, but I'm not a fucking Daredevil. I can't use my disadvantages to my advantage.''

She rolls her eyes. ''Look,'' she answers, nodding at Derek. ''Even Derek isn't impressed with that reference.''

''I have no idea what you're talking about,'' Derek replies honestly.

Erica stares at him. ''You don't know Daredevil?''

''Is it one of the superheroes? I don't know this stuff.''

''Oh my god,'' she says, still looking at him. ''That means that you only got to know that when you got back to Beacon Hills. After you met us. After you heard about the superheroes from someone.''

Stiles shoots her a death glare.

Derek frowns, having no idea how is that important and why Stiles won't meet his eyes, his smell changed with embarrassment.

He doesn't know those people.

Leaving them, he decides to observe Allison, pretending he studies the notes on the previous supernatural cases. Over the last days he has heard her talking about her father and it sounded like they have a better relationship now.

They do, if Allison's conversation on the phone now is anything to go by.

Finally, in the evening, they leave. There is just Stiles, still analyzing the case. Derek scowls, annoyed, even more so, since he shouldn't be – after all, Stiles is working. But he'd like to be by himself now in this supposedly his apartment.

He looks at the figure of the wolf on the table. It has all colors of the rainbow and Derek can't stop thinking of it as a 'gay wolf', which can't be _his_ idea, right?

Plus, if it really was his apartment, he wouldn't put this thing here. It's ridiculous. Just like a bean bag in the corner (it's _bright pink_ ) or a poster on the wall with all Marvel characters.

''Well fuck,'' states Stiles suddenly. Derek glances at him.

''If all those organs are to go to one spell, it will be really fucking powerful,'' says Stiles.

''How powerful exactly?''

''I don't know,'' replies Stiles. ''Out of my depth powerful. Or, like, the whole of Beacon Hills powerful.''

 

6\. Sunday

They come over. Lydia joins later on, but when she passes him by, going to the board with all the pieces of information about the case, he catches this smell-

it's Peter. Just a hint, surely impossible to notice by the rest, but for Derek, it's family, still.

He's so shocked for a minute he just stands there, before deciding to ask her about it when the pack gets out. Asking her to go out of the apartment with him now would make the rest unnecessarily curious.

Even though they finally have more time to work on the case, no one is really willing, even after Lydia states to everyone that she's found out that magic can be transmitted by pretty much every creature susceptible to it, including humans, werewolves, vampires, anything. Erica and Boyd are still watching the TV, Isaac is playing on his phone, Allison is reading a book, Scott and Stiles are preparing something for their classes.

Derek joins Erica and Boyd.

''Why is everybody like that?'' he asks quietly, turning the volume up.

They look at him questioningly.

''You all feel exhausted.''

Erica snorts.

''It was a rough month,'' shrugs Boyd.

''Stiles called it a supernatural climax when he was organizing the information on all the cases, together with your memory loss,'' grins Erica.

He stares at them, surprised, then turns to the TV to think about what he's heard. It makes sense, he guesses, Stiles kept talking about some vampires and witches when they came into his apartment.

''What is this poster?''

They both glance at the superheroes. ''Ah, that's my birthday present. I got it from Boyd,'' Erica smiles at the guy, almost shy.

''Well, what is it doing here?''

''That's your birthday present for me,'' she smirks.

Later on, he stands up to check on the others. Lydia looks through a magazine with Allison. Stiles is highlighting something in his book, the cap from the marker in his mouth. Derek makes a face, trying not to think about the- saliva, and- bacterias- nevermind.

His eyes keep on coming back to Stiles' lips, now forming an O. They appear soft and with this hint of color-

_...wrapping around his cock, so hot and wet, his eyes with this beautiful shade of brown, he combs Siles' hair, their length just right to tug on them-_

Derek snaps his eyes off of Stiles, his heart beating too fast. It's-

disgusting.

Disgusting.

Horrible. With Stiles, still a teenager, so much _younger_ -

''Derek, you okay?'' asks Scott, frowning at him. Isaac glances up, his eyebrows drawn.

He stares at them, almost laughing at the absurdity. He wills himself to take a breath.

_Just like when I lost my memory._

''Yeah,'' he answers, going to the door. He hears a noise behind him but ignores it.

''Derek.''

He stops but doesn't turn to Boyd. ''I'll be back,'' he grits out, leaving.

It can't be a memory.

Right? He wouldn't-, he couldn't have done that.

Besides, it has felt different. Not quite as real as the other stuff he has remembered.

That doesn't exactly make the answer better, though.

Because, a fucking fantasy? He has a fucking fantasy involving Stiles giving him a blowjob. He thought about it so many times he actually remembered it before getting to know how he came to turning Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, before getting the answer to Lydia's odd behavior, before understanding what it is he has with Stiles and _whether they have anything at all._

He has the urge to laugh hysterically, or to cry, to shout-

but he doesn't do any of those. Just stands there, shuddering, his breath coming in short gasps.

He goes back, eventually. Isaac keeps sending him weird glances but doesn't say anything. He doesn't know how to say he's grateful, how to show that, so he doesn't do anything.

Of course he doesn't do anything.

They leave earlier today, Derek asking Lydia to stay for a while longer and glancing at Stiles to go out as well, because he stays behind again.

Stiles doesn't look up from his notebook.

Lydia texts someone, ignoring both of them.

 _Enough_. ''Stiles,'' he starts, ''can you leave?''

Stiles eyes him and Lydia for a beat, but then nods, miserable, and goes out.

Derek doesn't know those people.

He waits to hear the door shut, then Stiles' steps on the stairs, and he knows, rationally, that's it, but he keeps on listening. When there is the sound of the car's engine starting, it makes him think of some rattling- pain-

_fucking wolfsbane bullet. It's always a fucking wolfsbane. And Stiles' smell is fucking with his mind, Jesus, don't stare at him, fuck, when will they get to the fucking clinic, he's gonna lose his arm at this rate-_

Frowning, he goes to the window just to watch Stiles driving off in a Jeep. An old, blue, rattling Jeep, right, he's seen it.

He doesn't know those people, he doesn't know their things.

He turns to Lydia.

''Have you met Peter?''

Lydia raises her eyes from her phone. ''Yes.''

''Is he-'' he starts, then stops. What does he want to know, exactly? Why does he care? It's Peter-

Laura-

but just him left-

He has no idea what to think about Peter. He has no idea what to think about Stiles, about Allison, Erica, and Boyd, Lydia, Isaac, and Scott.

''Is he alright?''

''He's better.''

Derek nods. They stand without saying anything more, until Lydia adds, ''It was him that told me that magic can be used by anybody, as long as they are susceptible to it.''

He nods again, lost in thoughts, sees Lydia open the door, but staying there, turning to him.

''Give Stiles a chance. He's helped you a lot.''

Lydia leaves, and he stays alone in his apartment. It doesn't feel like his with the gay wolf figure, with the pink bean bag and the Marvel characters poster. It doesn't feel like his pack.

He doesn't know those people, he doesn't know their things, he doesn't know this life.

 

7\. Monday

Derek works, he comes home, he is tired and he finds the pack in his loft already. So much for _his_ loft, he grimaces.

''Lydia's heard from Peter that anyone can perform magic, as long as they are susceptible to it,'' he starts, looking over them. ''It means that we have to include humans in our case. I want you to keep monitoring who enters the preserve.''

''We've already done the monitoring thing. It didn't work,'' replies Stiles.

''We're doing it again,'' he snaps. ''And you're not in the pack, Stiles,'' he adds before he can stop himself.

The guy stares at him, incredulous. ''What? I'm your emissary.''

''You're human, not a wolf,'' he states, anger getting ahead of him.

''Lydia and Allison aren't werewolves either!''

''Allison gave up on her family to join us and Lydia has done nothing to betray my trust. You've put me in a mountain ash circle and subjected me to a spell not even telling me about it.''

''I've told you I've done it because I hadn't known who you were! You've been acting all strange-''

''I've lost my memory.''

''I didn't know about it back then!''

Derek takes a breath and can hear Erica saying lightly, ''Actually, you honestly haven't done much recently, Lydia.''

The girl turns to her. ''You know nothing about the situation I'm-''

Erica interrupts her, laughing coldly. ''Your _situation_? You mean the fucking insane-''

''He is not-'' starts Lydia, but Allison stops her, trying to calm both of them down.

Scott comes up to Stiles, defending him. Isaac stands in the middle of the room, torn between the groups.

It strikes Derek how pathetic this is. Really, they didn't need a lot to start arguing, their so-called pack already falling apart.

 _EVERYBODY WAS KUNG FU FIGHTING~,_ yells the laptop. Derek snaps his head to the direction of the sounds just to find Boyd leaning against the wall.

 _THOSE CATS WERE FAST AS LIGHTENING~_ , the song continues. Stiles starts laughing out loud.

_IN FACT IT WAS A LITTLE BIT FRIGHTENING~_

_BUT THEY FOUGHT WITH EXPERT TIMING_

The group stops talking. Isaac joins Scott and mutters to him something quietly. Derek doesn't miss how close they are. They leave him and Stiles to go to Allison and Lydia. Erica goes to Boyd, talking to him in a hurried manner.

When the song is finished, they are all standing in the awkward silence, avoiding each other's eyes, except for Boyd – who looks straight at Derek.

He grimaces and turns to Stiles. ''Outside,'' he shoots, hoping Stiles will understand it as a question. He does. Derek doesn't like what that means.

''I don't-'' he starts, but the least he can do is be honest with Stiles. He did save his life once. Or twice, if the situation with the wolfsbane bullet-

oh, god, this is so fucked up, everything about it.

''I can't trust you,'' he states.

Stiles flinches, his scent changing with hurt. He doesn't speak for a while but finally nods. ''Okay,'' he licks his lips. ''Do you trust anyone?''

''Boyd,'' he starts. ''Erica, I think, maybe Isaac, and Allison.''

''You trust Allison?'' asks Stiles, doubt strong in his voice.

''Yes,'' he replies, then sighs. He needs to say at least this one more thing. ''I have remembered one thing about her.''

Stiles looks up at him, wide-eyed. ''You have remembered something?''

''Not much,'' he adds. ''Just some- random memories,'' he finishes lamely and grimaces at the word he chose.

''Oh.'' Stiles glances at him. ''Anything about me?'' he inquires.

Derek isn't ready for this. No way. He shakes his head.

''Okay,'' Stiles replies and tries to smile, fails, and frowns, focusing back on Derek. ''But, look, Allison trusts me, and so does Boyd, Erica, and Isaac, so, if you trust them, try to trust me?'' he suggests.

Derek closes his eyes. They could have started better, but during the last few days, Stiles was okay. More than okay, if he was honest with himself. But could he trust someone-

Stiles doesn't know how much he's remembered – at least that much is to his advantage.

He nods.

''One more thing,'' says Stiles. ''Can I tell that to the others?''

And so comes one more point for trusting Stiles.

''Dudes!'' calls Stiles, entering back the apartment. ''Derek has regained some memories! Do we have champagne?''

''No,'' answers Scott.

''Ugh, we need something to celebrate and I need to get wasted.''

''Man, you've just got drunk two days ago! I had to get your ass from the pub.''

''You owe us for that, Stiles,'' calls Allison, just to have Isaac nod with her.

''Oh, come on, you know I don't remember anything from when I get drunk, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't the first time Scott has helped me like that.''

''It actually was the first time in a long while,'' answers Scott.

''Well, then, who was helping me earlier?''

Scott hesitates for a beat with an answer. ''Derek,'' he admits. ''But in his defense, you don't seem that much more out of it after alcohol than how you're normally like.''

''Thanks, Scott,'' shoots Stiles, sarcasm back.

''No problem,'' he smiles brightly.

 


	2. Allies to Friends

8\. Tuesday

They aren't happy about monitoring the preserve, but no one has a better idea what else they could possibly do, so it's just Derek, Lydia, and Stiles in the apartment. The others, except for Allison, training, got some kind of powder from Stiles, mistletoe mixed with other stuff, to use if they suspect anything, taking their turns monitoring.

The loft feels empty, he's grown used to the presence of others by now. Funny how everyone has their place here. Lydia likes the armchair, Allison occupies the table with Scott and Isaac, Boyd and Erica spend their time on the sofa, Stiles has this space in the corner with all the jars and the books and the bean bag, and Derek has the window sill with a seat-

 _Stiles has this_ whole _space_ -

He closes his eyes.

Lydia is busy with one of Stiles' tomes, Stiles tries to decipher the meaning of some very vague and very weird Latin text, cursing the author, Keats all the time. Derek knows this language a bit, he had to, being born as a werewolf. He doesn't remember much.

It still means he has to help Stiles. It means he has to talk to him.

He takes a break in the afternoon to make a dinner cause he needs to be alone and he's had enough of the take-outs. When the risotto is ready, Stiles makes a joke about it being a vegetarian dish, but it falls flat since he's referring to some memory only him and Derek had, but Derek doesn't remember it and the pack (now back, except for Erica and Boyd, observing the preserve) doesn't know it. Nevertheless, Scott laughs after a beat just to make Stiles feel better and the others are busy facepalming, so maybe no one will realize, aside from Derek, that he and Stiles had inside jokes.

Stiles leaves earlier, just as yesterday.

 

9\. Wednesday

He still works with Stiles. If they are on the right track, whoever prepares the spell, and _if_ they are right about the spell's point, he or she will need a heart of a bigger animal now.

''Humans are animals too,'' notices Stiles in a low voice. After a second he frowns. ''What about werewolves, though? And banshees? Wait, do I really have to worry whether werewolves are a part of Animalis kingdom?''

It helps that Stiles jokes. It doesn't help that it really makes Derek laugh.

He feels more and more the need to ask someone about their earlier relationship. He'd go to Boyd, but he's asked him so many times already these past few days, it's like he depends on him. He hates the thought.

In the end, he chooses Isaac, because even though he knew something was up with Derek, he didn't pressure or tell anyone on Sunday. He knows he's taking chances, though.

''Stiles? He wants your dick, you want his. I think that's all,'' states Isaac bluntly.

Derek stares at him. He kind of expected the answer but didn't think Isaac would be that straightforward.

''We weren't fuckbuddies,'' he blurts out.

Isaac finds it funny. ''No,'' he agrees before looking at Derek with a weird expression, ''you were much closer than that.''

Confused and suddenly even more uncomfortable, Derek can only ask Isaac to keep this talk to himself. He rolls his eyes, but mutters ''Obviously.''

 

10\. Thursday

They give up observing the preserve when another dead animal comes up. This time, it's a fox, lacking a heart.

It's not a human. Not yet, at least.

Scott and Isaac are sure no one aside from them had been in the preserve back then.

''Probably a hiding spell,'' shrugs Stiles. ''Just like the first time when we observed the preserve.''

''You didn't hear, smell or see anyone?'' asks Derek.

They shake their heads.

''That's how a hiding spell works,'' says Stiles.

''And you didn't suspect anything.''

They shake their heads again.

''Huh,'' muses Stiles, ''that's bad.''

_Of course it is._

''So, remember when I said that the person doing that must be powerful?'' asks Stiles.

Derek nods.

''They are _really_ powerful,'' revises Stiles.

When the others leave and it's just Derek and Stiles, they are so caught up in the conversation they don't even notice it at first, but then, it's awkward.

''So, tea?'' suggests Stiles.

He comes back after a while with two mugs.

''Lydia's amazing, huh? She is better with Latin than both of us, really helps me with the research and can do some spells, being a banshee.'' Stiles drinks some of his tea and continues. ''But her taste in men is just so disappointing.''

Derek smiles. ''Why?''

''Come on, Peter?'' He grimaces. ''And she's never thought seriously about me. Not that I actually want that anymore, but she's turned down _this_?'' Stiles makes a stupid face as he shows off his muscles.

Derek snickers, trying not to stare at the body and takes a sip.

The tea has a bittersweet, chocolatey taste with a hint of smoke. It's surprisingly soothing-

_Stiles laughs and it should look weird with the blood on his shirt from the fight, but all Derek can feel is affection._

_''I can't believe this spell worked,'' says Stiles. ''I mean, come on, it's such a common knowledge it was bound to be false. But then Scott told me he's said to Deaton that Allison is good with bows-''_

_''Why would he say that?''_

_''Because Deaton saw them and Allison had it with her or something,'' shrugs Stiles. ''Anyways, Deaton asked him then if she trains in the forest like Artemis, and Scott didn't know about Artemis, but thought it was a roundabout way of Deaton trying to give Scott a way to compliment Allison to get them back together, you know, cause they had a rough time back then.''_

_''That makes sense. Scott's good for nothing when he is moping.''_

_''True. But calling Allison a goddess? Come on.''_

_He huffs out a laugh and takes another drink of his tea._

_''But, anyway, again,'' starts Stiles, ''Artemis supposedly had a silver bow, which is kinda stupid for shooting, but, silver. And vampires. Get it?'' Stiles asks, grinning, his eyes big and excited._

_''So I thought, okay, that's really dumb, but we may as well try that, and with this spell the silver really did burn them,'' he finishes. ''That's so dumb.''_

_He smiles at Stiles and says softer than he intended, ''You were amazing.''_

_The boy smiles as well and he likes to think that the blush on his cheeks is from the words, but it may as well be the warmth of the tea._

_''Thanks,'' answers Stiles and biting his lip, moves his hand closer to Derek's to press their fingers together. He takes it back almost immediately._

_He is grateful Stiles can't hear his heartbeat._

''You okay?'' asks Stiles.

Derek blinks at him. His shirt isn't bloody anymore.

''Sorry, I just realized I've made Yunnan Gold instead of Assam.''

''It's okay,'' says Derek weakly, gripping his mug.

Just another memory. This one was so detailed, though.

 

10\. Friday

''Oh man, I love _pinkie_ ,'' sighs Stiles, sinking in the bean bag.

''Why do I even have this thing?'' asks Derek with as much disdain as he can muster. He ignores the name, but it's normal for him to ignore _something_ when he is around Stiles.

''Uh, because we need to sit on something during the pack meetings?''

''Why can't it be a chair?''

''Because bean bags are way more comfortable, plus they are creative. You can sit and lie however you want on it.''

''It's not creative, it's stupid. And _bright pink_.''

''Yeah, well, we know you don't appreciate creative stuff like friendship bracelets, knitting _or_ bean bags. You're _boring_ like that.''

''I can be plenty creative,'' opposes Derek, narrowing his eyes.

''Oh, really?''

'' _Yes, really,_ '' he replies, sensing a challenge coming.

''Then, after we solve this gut-ripping thing I expect a handmade friendship bracelet from you.''

''A friendship bracelet?''

''You'd rather start knitting a scarf?''

''Fine, you'll get your friendship bracelet,'' answers Derek, because a bracelet is smaller so it's less work, right?

''And if I don't?'' asks Stiles, cocking an eyebrow at him.

''Then you can add one more thing to my apartment, doesn't matter what, without my permission.''

Stiles sneers and Derek can almost hear him thinking _as if I'd need your permission._ Nevertheless, he nods.

''Deal. And if I do get my friendship bracelet, I will publicly state that you're both creative and an awesome alpha,'' grins Stiles.

''Deal.''

''Yeah.''

''Sure.''

''You're both so dumb,'' sighs Lydia from across the room.

When they get to the pub, they are still talking, arguing about something. Derek knows that during the course of the evening others are saying stuff as well, commenting, laughing, finally leaving, but he is so immersed in a discussion with Stiles he barely notices them. He can't even bring himself to care much about it, because – well – Stiles is fucking distracting. And he is a human-

and now that he thinks about it, _Stiles is a human_. If he were to get hurt, he would be hurting, he could end up dead, he is physically weaker – Derek can see that as Stiles is getting drunk before his eyes.

And wasted Stiles is even more fragile than normally.

He is surprised how much that affects him. Makes him want to _do_ something for him. As they leave the pub, the last ones from the pack, Stiles is completely inebriated and when passing by a coin-operated machine with some stupid toys, he demands one of them, specifically a Barbie sticker.

Derek stares at him, tries to appear to rationally thinking part of his own brain, just to fail, obviously, feel somewhat guilty that Stiles – the whole pack has to deal with all this shit, look at Stiles again as he is blabbering about gender stereotypes-

and agrees.

 

11\. Saturday

''Guys!'' Stiles is grinning brilliantly, entering Derek's loft. ''Look! It's happened again!''

The pack turns to him and Scott gets up, asking ''What is it today? I'll take a photo.''

''Barbie tattoo!''

''I can't believe you end up with all this random stuff every time we go out drinking,'' muses Isaac, shooting a glance towards Derek.

Derek has a second of panic, but no one else pays attention to him, admiring the tattoo. It doesn't look good, of course – it's not even a real tattoo, just a picture that sticks to your skin when treated with a little bit of water and it pretty much wipes off almost immediately if you so much as rub it.

He tears his eyes away from Stiles' forearm. God, he has no time for this. He knows he has no time for this, but if the time isn't now when will be the time?

He has a pack, they are getting by somehow, growing stronger, there aren't that many supernatural incidents now, just the one in the preserve – it's not that bad.

Even with all the questions, the dead animals, Peter, Lydia, even Stiles (how did he end up as his- as their emissary?) – it really isn't that bad.

So maybe he can think about himself, about Stiles and-

or maybe he can't.

He's spent so much time with Stiles yesterday – it should be enough. For now, at least.

At least for now.

Taking a breath, resolving that _yes, it's the right decision_ , he raises his voice. ''Scott, training-,'' he says, his tone shifting in the middle from an order to more of a question, resulting in an unclear sound.

Scott glances at him, surprised, but walks out obediently and they go to the preserve. He doesn't try to make a conversation and Derek's grateful for it, lost in his thoughts because why the fuck would he be hesitant about giving an order? He is their alpha, and the situation is far from perfect, he is allowed to be somewhat harsher.

Still, as different as everything is, it doesn't _feel dangerous_. Maybe that's why they take their time looking for Vanilla Jack the Ripper of the Animal Kingdom (Stiles' idea for the name, not his). And just now, the atmosphere was so calm and relaxed, everyone joking or at least smiling at Stiles' tattoo, and Derek was about to destroy it with his harshness.

There is no good answer.

Scott is great, way better than he expected. When faced with beta-shifted Scott rushing at him, he ducks to the left, barely escaping Scott's claws – definitely using his alpha status' advantage. Scott twists and attacks, and Derek can only defend himself, finally jumping to the side but Scott's at him again, and, _shit, he's amazing_.

''Well?'' asks Scott, smiling at him openly like an excited puppy. ''How good was I?''

Huh, he is really eager for some compliments. It only makes Derek look at him flatly.

Scott slumps somewhat but doesn't say anything, walking through the preserve.

It is-

making-

him-

uncomfortable.

Well, fuck.

''You are our best warrior.''

Scott turns to him, his eyes growing bigger. ''Thanks,'' he says honestly, a dopey grin on his face.

It's not that bad.

The training was quite long, the sky has already darkened, so Scott decides to head home. Watching him retreat, Derek finds himself with a now-familiar tingling at the back of his head-

_Scott grins at him with a big bag in his hands._

_''What is it?'' he asks, wary._

_''A bean bag,'' Scott's smile grows even more._

_''Why?''_

_''We could use another seat.''_

_''Why is it bright pink?''_

_''Allison said that the corner needed a splash of color,'' says Scott seriously._

_''Good thinking, Ally,'' calls Lydia._

_He should be angry, of course he should, it's his apartment, and there already is this poster, though he kind of likes it, but well. Allison and Scott changing something in his loft could mean they recognize this space as important to them, they feel responsible for it – and it could mean they care about the pack._

Derek walks further through the preserve, letting the images flow through his head, not stopping to analyze them, enjoying the quiet evening, feeling something inside him soothe, even as he doesn't understand or remember everything yet.

How did it go again?

_The zenith fills, sombrely glowing._

_Pale Venus emerges, and it is Night._

He smiles to himself.

The calmness is gone, though, when he sees a figure outside his loft.

''I couldn't enter because of the wards,'' explains Peter by means of greeting.

Derek nods, keeping his face blank.

''You should tell Stiles that the third spell here,'' he taps the wall, ''should have more graceful lines.''

Derek nods again, opening the door, pretending he knows what Peter's talking about.

''Come in.''

It feels weird, so he steps into the kitchen to prepare some tea. He tries to not think too hard about the fact that it's Yunnan Gold.

''Have you caught whoever guts the animals?'' asks Peter conversationally.

''No.''

Peter hums. ''I don't think it's anything evil, it would have made a move already, right after you've lost your memory, or it would've simply killed you instead of causing amnesia. On the other hand,'' he pauses to take a sip of the tea, ''it doesn't have to be evil to destroy what's important.''

''How long do you plan on staying?''

''In your apartment, where you can observe and easily kill me? Just for tonight.''

Derek pauses to look at him. ''I'm not going to kill you.''

''Noone would blame you. I did kill Laura for power.''

Derek stares at him, unmoving. ''Do you _want_ me to kill you?''

''Possibly.''

Derek can just hope – for Lydia's sake – that she and Peter aren't together.

 

12\. Sunday

''Graceful, he says,'' fumes Stiles in a mocking voice. '' _Graceful_. Here, come and see for yourself. This spell's freaking complicated, it took me a week to get it to curve right and now it's not _graceful_ enough,'' he talks, taking Derek outside.

''Look,'' he turns. ''Graceful or not?''

Derek stares at the empty wall.

''Well?''

''Stiles,'' he sighs, ''I can't see anything here.''

''Right,'' Stiles nods and takes Derek's hand in his, the warmth of the contact growing with the flow of energy. Stiles licks his lips, focusing, and shoots him a smile, his scent changing with magic, giving it a different but somehow familiar trace.

''Derek, you okay? Your heartbeat's-'' starts Scott from the loft but a 'clap' sound follows and the rest of the words are too muffled to understand.

Derek watches the spell appear, his cheeks flushed, obviously, and he clears his throat. ''Graceful enough,'' he decides weakly.

When they come back in, Boyd still has a hand over Scott's mouth, who struggles in his grip. Boyd's stronger, but Scott can outmaneuver him-

yeah, here it is.

''What? His heartbeat's really quickened-'' Scott starts again, but Boyd again stops him, shoving his arm and they start struggling.

''Guys,'' Allison comes in. She seems freaked out. ''Peter's at my home talking to my dad.'' Everyone turns to face her. ''My dad was blushing. I mean, I kind of wish I haven't seen that,'' she says with a weird expression. It changes to an apologetic one when she notices Lydia. ''Oh, Lyds, I'm so sorry,'' she comes closer to the girl and hugs her.

''It's okay. I expected it, more or less,'' Lydia speaks up, her face hidden in Allison's neck. Erica hugs Lydia from the other side, then Scott and Isaac join them, creating a group hug. Derek stands aside, wishing he knew what to do in such a situation, because slowly even Boyd comes closer, his arm around Erica. Stiles grins and sticks to all of them-

should he just go out for a while?

Just as Derek's about to leave, Stiles glances at him and reaches to pull him in.

It's not all bad.

Later, as soon as Stiles steps into the bathroom, everyone suddenly appears around Derek.

''Dude! Derek! Stiles has a birthday in a week!'' Scott hisses.

Derek blinks. He already has a gift for Stiles, just a thing he's heard Stiles had wanted and he could get. It's rare and expensive, but Stiles needs that, and the pack needs Stiles, _he_ needs Stiles, so sure, okay, he can wait now and give it to him for his birthday, it's a good excuse.

''Okay.''

''Do you think we should prepare Barbie-themed party?''

''Barbie?''

''Maybe something with ponies as well,'' suggests Isaac mildly.

Derek frowns as the others snort. He smooths his face, looking away – probably another memory he didn't retrieve, but it's odd to suddenly be excluded.

''I think we should stay with the superheroes,'' says Erica.

Derek glances at her. ''Like Daredevil? Turn your disadvantages to your advantage?''

They look at him, impressed. Derek feels dumb relief at the fact that they do have some common ground.

''I knew you'd come up with something,'' says Scott.

''Turn your disadvantages to your advantage,'' repeats Lydia thoughtfully. ''Yes, it sounds good as a theme.''

 

13\. Monday

''I still can't believe that the organs were removed with such precision,'' speaks Lydia from upon the photos.

Derek snaps his eyes to her, frowning, all the information gathering in his mind. Scott's _Deaton's great with Latin_ , Stiles' _whatever it is, it's great with magic_ , and now Lydia's _organs were removed with such precision_.

It's so clear now.

He schools his face and calms down his heartbeat. He needs to do it alone. He is an alpha, it's always been his respon-

''What is it?'' asks Stiles, observing him with narrowed eyes.

''Nothing,'' he replies, trying to think of an excuse.

''Sure,'' he drawls. ''You are hiding something. You have that face.''

Derek grimaces. ''I'm not-'' he starts, just to realize that last time he did what he wants to do now, he's lost his memory. It didn't help the case.

And it's Stiles – his friend at the very least and discarding everything else.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath. ''We need to talk outside.''

''It's Deaton,'' he states simply.

Stiles stares at him for a while, his eyes big and intense, and then he suddenly sighs. ''Fuck,'' he groans. ''Yeah, it makes sense.''

''I've lost my memory just before entering his clinic, but I must've been in shock and wandered off to the preserve somehow.''

Stiles nods, seemingly still organizing everything inside his mind. ''He even appeared in the town a few months before the incidents. Okay,'' he says finally. ''I'm an emissary. I should go there and talk with him or shoot some spells if it goes wrong-''

''No,'' Derek rejects immediately. ''He is too powerful-''

''That doesn't mean I'm powerless,'' interjects Stiles, narrowing his eyes.

''I know, Stiles.'' Derek lets his mouth curl up a bit. ''I've just felt it yesterday.''

Stiles smiles a little as well, looking away, his scent changing. It's not the time, again, it's never the time-

''But still, we aren't sure about his intentions,'' observes Stiles. ''I mean, he guts the animals and has caused you a memory loss, but the animals were dead already and the spell he's used on you was kind of sloppy. He could've done something worse.'' He frowns. ''And he didn't do anything else even though he knew you were suspecting him.''

Derek's mouth thins. ''We have to go there as a group.''

''But not like on a war.''

''Still, we need to be prepared.''

''For diplomatic talk as well.''

''Okay,'' sighs Derek. ''Peaceful beginning and then depending on his response, a fight or a diplomatic talk.''

Stiles nods. ''I'll go over the rules for this stuff and some necessary spells with Lydia.'' His eyebrows draw together. ''Though I think I remember most of the spells by now. This month was hell.''

''Are you alright?''

Stiles glances at him. Shit, was his tone too-

''I'm fine. Thanks, Derek,'' he bites his lip, ''you know, for giving me a chance.''

Derek shakes his head. ''You've helped a lot.''

Stiles smiles. ''That's what an emissary is for.''

''That reminds me. How did you become one?''

Stiles glances at him, hesitating. ''It was my mother. She taught me a lot of stuff, and I thought I'll never really need it, but then you turned up, so.'' He shrugs. ''Life.''

Derek doesn't respond. Stiles has done so much despite being so young, despite still being a teenager. Even if Derek didn't know it from all the notes on the previous cases, from the pack, those past two weeks alone would've been enough.

''I've never actually told you that,'' Stiles notices and laughs awkwardly.

Derek can be making a mistake here. It definitely isn't the time. He may regret it later.

He looks up at Stiles and holding his eyes, willing him to remember, says ''I don't know what'll happen tomorrow, but as I know you now, you're my best friend. You've helped me more than I could've hoped for. I don't want to forget it.''

He turns before Stiles can respond and strides towards his loft, planning what they need to do for tomorrow.

 


	3. Friends to Lovers

14\. Tuesday

Of course, he should be alone. He's an alpha, it's his responsibility to watch over things like that.

Of course, he would've lost his memory again then, or he would've been killed.

So he walks through the preserve with Stiles, his emissary, and Scott, his best warrior/link to Deaton.

Right after them are Lydia, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. Lydia will support them with both magic and her knowledge of the diplomatic protocol. Isaac is to warn for the slightest scent of magic used. Boyd is the strongest from all of them – an obvious asset if they are to fight, but he also cares for the atmosphere in the pack, stopping their argument with one song, helping Derek find himself anew in the group, and now tampering down Erica's willingness to fight.

Erica is quick on her foot, and she can get more resources from Chris Argent or some herbs for the spells from Peter – both of them have decided to stay alert, but at the back.

Lastly, there is Allison, hiding with her bow for now. It may seem she plays a minor role here, but he still remembers the way she has saved all of them before.

''Alpha Hale,'' Deaton recognizes with a small nod. ''I've been waiting for this visit.''

''It would've come faster if I haven't lost my memory.''

''Okay, okay, let's not be hasty now, shall we?'' interjects Stiles. ''My name is Stiles Stilinski and I'm an emissary for the Hale pack. We come hereby in search of peace and friendship. What are thee's intentions?''

''There is no need to be this official,'' opposes Deaton.

''Yeah, _thee_ was an overkill,'' Scott glances at Stiles.

''It wasn't my idea! It was the best phrase I took from Keats.''

Deaton nods. ''Lamartine has described the protocol for such meetings better.''

Stiles looks at him, interest piqued. ''You have Lamartine? What about Southey?''

''Eight of his tomes.''

''Eight,'' repeats Stiles weakly. ''Can I-''

''Stiles.''

Stiles bites his lip but nods.

''What are your intentions?'' Derek repeats.

''As you have probably noticed, I've been preparing a quite powerful spell for the whole of Beacon Hills. Because of the Nemeton, it draws in supernatural creatures. With your help, I can stop it.''

''If you need our help, why have you attacked me?''

''I was defending myself. You came here with an intent to kill me.''

''Seriously?'' Scott asks, disappointed.

Derek ignores him.

''You have probably regained some of your memories by now, spells like those aren't definite,'' explains Deaton. ''I can remove the rest of it.''

Derek gazes at him, wary.

''Your emissary can reaffirm the purpose of this spell.'' Deaton makes a swift gesture with his hand.

Stiles glances at him. ''It's okay.''

''You will regain your memory by tomorrow,'' says Deaton, then gives him a disapproving look. ''All this time, I've been waiting for an official visit from you. I need your emissary's help to prepare the spell, and you need the situation in town to calm down.''

Derek just stares at him. All this time-

''Seriously?'' Scott asks again, this time looking at Deaton.

Stiles facepalms.

 

15\. Wednesday

He has his memories back. He tries not to think too much, struggling like an idiot with his friendship bracelet, even though he's not sure if the bet remains.

Scott and Stiles don't come over.

 

16\. Thursday

''Stiles' with Deaton. They are practicing magic.''

''Is he okay?''

''He was close to tears when he saw Deaton's library.''

 

17\. Friday

It's easier, having his memories back. He doesn't have to stop himself from inquiring if he doesn't know something, like asking why would Stiles think he had killed Laura because he knows that now. He doesn't have to wonder how did he come to turning Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Scott – he remembers it. He doesn't frown at the gay wolf anymore – the name is as annoying as ever – still seeing Stiles' grin as he gave it to him, explaining it's the result of his art class.

Having his memories back, it's harder to ignore how he refused to take the statue and ended up with it anyways at Stiles' plea.

Some things are as confusing as earlier, like Stiles always somehow ending up next to him, or like Peter – in general. But Peter is with Chris now, a patient and collected man, so maybe it will work out.

And Derek isn't miserable, or in this frozen silent anger like before. He's calmed down over the years – there is still a long way to go, but yeah. It's not that bad.

Especially now, with the spell protecting Beacon Hills, or steading the Nemeton, or 'reinforcing the balance', or whatever, Deaton is kind of pissing him off.

Stiles too (''He said that the Artemis thing was on purpose. He knew there were vampires we were gonna fight and told Scott about Artemis so that I'd hear about that and choose this spell for silver. I was like, come on, what the hell, man. And he said it was because the balance would be destroyed if he helped actively then because we hadn't had this official meeting. Honestly. And Scott still likes him!''), but he copes with it for the sake of the books and all the knowledge Deaton's experience in magic offers.

They all drink tonight, Stiles as well, though not as much as those past two weeks. Maybe he won't get wasted enough for Derek to get him something ridiculous again. What was the worst, actually, that Stiles has wished for? Probably the pony Isaac mentioned. Stiles' wanted Derek's face on it. The thing ended up incredibly creepy.

They are still talking, all of them. Maybe it's even getting better.

 

18\. Saturday

''It's tomorrow, Derek!'' Scott is almost vibrating with energy, grinning at him as soon as Stiles leaves to change the wards on the loft, playing with the Tamagotchi he got from Derek the night before.

 

19\. Sunday

'Turn your disadvantages to your advantage', reads the cake. The letters are barely recognizable, all jumbled together. Stiles loves it, though comments it's the kind of a phrase a coach could use.

''Those are your own words,'' Derek reminds him.

''That's not fair! I was talking about Daredevil.''

''No, it had a deeper meaning.''

''Has someone filmed Derek saying _deeper meaning_?''

''Got it,'' smirks Isaac.

Derek narrows his eyes at Stiles. ''You want to give me back this Mickiewicz's book?''

''Nope, no way, no take-backs, it's mine, I love it. Even Deaton doesn't have it and I have it, _that's so awesome_.''

Derek looks at him, and when the others are busy talking, dancing, eating, drinking, he can't stop himself from asking, ''you like that?''

Stiles raises his eyes from the book. ''Obviously. It's amazing.''

Derek bites his lip. ''No, I mean- wouldn't you rather have a normal life?''

Stiles turns away, thinking about the answer. ''I'm not really happy about the monsters part, but,'' he pauses and sighs, ''magic makes me feel closer to my mother.''

Derek leans a bit closer, their shoulders touching.

They spend yet another whole evening talking.

''We'll be going now,'' says Boyd.

Derek glances at him and Erica. ''You can stay in the guest room if you want to.'' He grimaces. ''Just don't have sex.''

They both stare at him wide-eyed.

''We aren't dating,'' blurts Erica.

Boyd looks sideways, his face blank.

Derek almost gapes at them. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was this. ''Sorry, I just assumed- sorry.''

Erica and Boyd disappear inside.

''Sucks you can't blame it on amnesia anymore, huh,'' comments Isaac.

''I thought – because they just behave like that all the time-''

''Like what?'' asks Erica, sticking her head outside again. ''Like you and Stiles?'' she raises her eyebrows and hides.

''Burn,'' says Isaac gleefully.

 

20\. Monday

''Guys,'' Derek groans, but at least he hasn't heard them through the music and the wall between.

Boyd has enough conscience to avoid his eyes. Erica is smiling brilliantly.

''Seriously?'' asks Stiles, grinning, and high-fives her.

Derek scowls. ''Don't encourage them.''

Eric laughs and goes out holding Boyd's hand.

Stiles looks after them. ''So, Derek the matchmaker, huh?''

''It was a coincidence,'' he states flatly.

''Yeah, it's all about _coincidences_ ,'' Stiles wiggles his eyebrows.

''I sure hope it was a coincidence when my dad kissed Peter,'' Allison speaks up weakly. ''By the way, Peter wanted me to tell you, Stiles, that the ward's lines look better now. I don't know which word he used, something like elegant-''

Stiles narrows his eyes. '' _Graceful_ ,'' he spits. ''Well, I want you to tell him that he's an asshole now.''

''He's not that bad,'' she opposes. ''Usually.''

Lydia hugs her.

Derek still has to go to work, damn the pack's college life and its late Monday classes.

''I'm glad you're better,'' Sheriff claps his arm and gazes at him. ''You know you can tell me you're dating Stiles.''

Derek stares at him, shocked. ''What?''

''I'm okay with it. Stiles can decide for himself if he wants to be with you and I trust you to treat him well.''

_So that's how Boyd and Erica felt._

''No, I mean- we're not going out.''

Sheriff nods. ''Of course,'' he agrees. ''But you can tell me.''

 

21\. Tuesday

It kind of makes sense now, all of it. He felt like he should've been in this alone, he's dragged Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac into this shithole, the least he could do was take responsibility. Make it easier for them. But once he's lost his memory, he had to rely on them – and they were great, better than he could've hoped for.

It's the same with Stiles. He was thinking that keeping it secret, staying just friends was better for him, for the pack. It could be. He has no idea. But knowing things is so much easier than staying in the dark. And he and Stiles have been through so much, always there for each other, even the rejection could turn, eventually, to working things out and strengthening them.

Because after all, that's what it comes down to. Turning your disadvantages to your advantage.

Derek waits for the pack to leave, believing that Stiles will be the last one to go.

He is, just like before.

''Your dad thinks we're going out.''

Stiles glances away. ''Yeah, I know.''

Derek takes a breath. ''I've told you earlier that you're my best friend, and it's true. But there is more,'' he closes his eyes briefly, ''you like Paul Verlaine, you brought me the statue of the wolf, you just care, help me get through everything with the dumbest, most ridiculous things, like this Barbie tattoo.''

He tries to calm his heartbeat in the silence that follows, waiting for the words to come, even as he's not sure whose, his or Stiles'.

Stiles laughs suddenly. ''I knew it was you. I mean, I wasn't sure because I don't actually remember anything from when I get drunk, and I was suspecting Erica and Isaac as well, but yeah, that makes sense,'' he looks at Derek who smiles, full of affection for Stiles.

The expression must have given away too much because Stiles looks away and stands up abruptly. ''I'll make some tea. Assam for you?''

''Yunnan Gold,'' corrects Derek, glancing at him.

Stiles gives him a tight, somewhat panicked smile and leaves. It takes him longer than usual to prepare the drinks.

Once Derek has a warm mug between his hands, he starts again. ''Stiles, I-''

''Do you want to watch Daredevil?'' Stiles interrupts.

''Stiles,'' he bites his lip, ''just let me finish. Please.''

Stiles grimaces, but complies, staying in his spot.

So this is the time.

''You're important for me. You- make my life better. Stiles, I would like you to stay with me, for as long as you will have me.'' Derek takes a breath. ''I love you.''

Stiles doesn't answer at first, avoids his eyes. ''Why now?'' he asks finally.

''I wanted you to know, '' he shrugs. ''It's easier when you know. When you don't have to guess things.''

Stiles' heart stutters at that and Derek looks up at him, hopeful.

''Don't be so nice,'' replies Stiles, suddenly angry. ''You care too much about the others,'' he adds, then hides his face in his hands to sigh and quietly speak, ''I've been in love with you for years, Derek. I- I have no idea what I should do now. We're,'' he shakes his head, ''we're _friends_.''

''We don't have to do anything.''

Stiles stays silent for a long time now. Derek waits, drinking his tea, stays put, still anxious.

''Daredevil?'' suggests Stiles again.

He hasn't exactly imagined such an outcome, but it's nice, watching the show with Stiles, his warmth right next to him – they always sit close, but today it feels different, almost intimate – hearing his laughs and comments. Derek even manages to sneak an arm behind Stiles but doesn't touch him.

After a while, though, he shifts his weight, letting his arm slide down.

Stiles doesn't react beyond his heartbeat quickening.

It stays fast as Derek starts lightly touching his neck, drawing small circles with his fingers.

He is so focused on Stiles' breathing and heartbeat the action on the screen doesn't make sense anymore, but it's fine. He's seen Daredevil before, as well as all those other films and TV shows because Stiles kept talking about them.

His scent changes now, Derek can decipher his growing arousal. That's what pushes him to slide his hand lower, beneath Stiles' shirt. God, he himself is almost completely hard already, just from being able to touch Stiles and feeling him this close.

''Derek,'' Stiles lets out the air and shuts his eyes. ''Is this a good idea?''

''I don't know. _But I want you_.''

''What happened to we don't have to do anything?''

Derek takes his hand right back like it was burnt. ''I'm sorry-''

''No,'' Stiles shakes his head. ''I want that. That's the problem.''

''But-'' Derek stares at him, not understanding, ''Stiles, I've wanted you for so long.'' He turns down the TV and faces him. ''Even when I lost my memory – I kept thinking about you, when we were in the car, I could feel your scent-''

He takes Stiles' chin and tilts his head slightly to the side to lean in and breathe Stiles in, dragging his nose along the skin. When he opens his eyes, his pupils are blown.

Stiles turns to look at him and for a while, they just stay there, neither sure what's going to happen – and then they kiss.

It changes to dirty in no time, Derek pressing to Stiles, both of them sliding so that Derek can lay down on top of Stiles, so soft and pliant under him, still kissing. Derek touches him everywhere, his forearms that he kept on watching, now without the Barbie tattoo, his arms, his hair that are just the right length to tug on to look at Stiles' face. He seems wrecked already – his eyes dark, skin flushed, lips opening for a pink tongue to dart out. Derek moves his fingers, drawing them on Stiles' neck and cheek, closer to-

''Your mouth,'' he curses quietly. Stiles closes his eyes and sucks on his thumb. Derek groans, ''fuck, I kept looking – when you were using those markers – I couldn't stop thinking of you taking my cock.''

Stiles moans, his eyelids fluttering as Derek adds another finger and starts moving his hips, watching as Stiles can't stop all those little sounds escaping him, mesmerized.

He waits for Stiles to slick his fingers thoroughly, then unzips his jeans and touches Stiles' length through the material.

''Derek,'' Stiles whimpers, his hips bucking to the contact. Derek is straining in his pants but can't tear his eyes away from Stiles.

''You're so beautiful like this,'' he whispers.

Stiles gazes at him and his hands wander to Derek's shirt, riding it up. ''Let me-''

Derek pauses to take it off, as well as his and Stiles' pants. They keep coming back to each other, trying to kiss and finally Stiles pulls off with laughter, getting rid of his jeans, stuck at his knees.

Derek smiles, seeing him. Stiles is almost naked now, having taken away his shirt, and he is undeniably sexy – but also it's still his friend. He knows why he has Marvel boxers and it makes something warm uncurl in his chest.

He buries his face in Stiles' neck to smell everything of him again. He licks the pale skin there and Stiles moans, clutching at his arms. Derek is on top of him, almost drunk with the way their scent are mingling, Stiles' spiked up with want. He licks more, nipping at the skin lightly, then biting, moving his hips all the time, their cocks sliding. The friction is mindblowing when Stiles gets his legs around Derek, they are completely pressed to each other.

''Fuck, Derek,'' Stiles whines. ''Yeah, here,'' he tilts his head back, showing even more of his skin.

Derek's eyes flash red at the submission and he grips Stiles' ass hard, the rhythm of the frottage faster.

They come at almost the same time, Stiles crying out, Derek burying his groan in Stiles' arm.

''I probably should have at least some restrictions about what happened, but shit, I'm so happy I don't care, I can't even tell if I'm really happy or the hormones are fucking with my brain,'' sighs Stiles.

Derek tenses next to him.

''No, no, don't make that face. I mean – just – do you think we could work like that?''

''Why not?''

Stiles stares at him. ''I don't know,'' he says finally. ''A bad habit of predicting the worst possible outcome?'' He bites his lip. ''But I do want the next time. One where I'd be able to do something more than lay there, moaning, taking everything.''

Derek's eyes flare.

'' _Fuck_ , you like that. Is this an alpha thing? Or are you versatile?''

''I could be.''

''God, I haven't thought that conversation through. I want the next time now, and I don't even know what's exactly our status.''

''Stiles, you are my friend first and foremost. Even if this doesn't work, I want us to stay friends.''

He doesn't answer, so Derek gets up, still naked and takes the friendship bracelet, now finished.

Stiles laughs, unbelieving when he sees the gift. ''Oh my god,'' he breathes out, grinning. ''I thought you forgot about this bet with everything that's happened. But wait, this is amazing, you're giving me a friendship bracelet while still naked, right after we had sex, I just can't. I love you.''

They both freeze at the unintended words.

''I mean, yeah. I think I love you. And you _are_ creative and a great alpha.''

''You still need to say that to the whole pack.''

Stiles laughs again and kisses him lightly, just touching his lips.

 _Yeah_ , thinks Derek. _It's really getting better._

 


End file.
